Frigid Environments
by Caralin942
Summary: Lougaron, a rough and tumble hunter, heads to the Tournament for something interesting to do. What he finds is more trouble than he wanted, with a bawdy paladin, a twisted death knight, and a love triangle. M for swearing and implied adult situations.
1. Cold

Cold. It seeped from every crevice. Every inch of barren, tainted soil. It coiled up from the ground in a mockery of heat, coiling around the feet of those who would tread the blighted land, snaking around their ankles and sinking into their bones with merciless, ruthless fangs of ice- bites that one wouldn't even feel until they stepped back into a warm environment where they would shake and battle for control of their limbs once more.

It made the breath leave the body as an ominous mist, and one could almost fancy it was the very essence of life that was being drained from their lungs as they watched it spiral upwards to the skies, careening away from the cold below. Cold. It was the wind, the sky, the ground, that were all wrapped in the slow quiet state of begrudging lethargy, taking its inhabitants into the same stupor. It was too easy to succumb to the bite and howl of the chilling winds and fall into the quiet slumber that teased and enticed at the back of the mind. Too hard to keep moving against the abrasive elements that tore at the skin, watered the eyes and tugged at morale.

The lean Sin'Dorei surveyed his new surroundings with a dispirited scowl on his thin mouth, and tugged at the fur lining that padded the chain mail armor protecting his hands. He drew the hood on his cloak and winced as the cloth aggravated his long ears made sensitive by the abrasive cold and relentless wind. He made a mental note to add more of the rich arctic fur to the hood of his cloak when he arrived at the Argent Tournament grounds; stopping here to modify his armor would require him to remove the cloak, leaving him exposed, not to mention it would mean getting off Mahes.

He hesitated at the thought, and glanced down at the proto-drake under him. The acid green dragonkin looked up at him with glowing yellow eyes filled with feral cunning. For perhaps the hundredth time that day, Lougaron Adramir Dawnwing feared his death by being thrown from the back of the proto-drake he had only just acquired.

Using his peripheral vision, not moving his gaze from the drake's, he saw the ground far below, and the multitudes of Scourge coiling on its surface. The gaping amber maw of his drake split even further in a toothy grin. Maintaining his cool composure- as if he could be anything but cool in frigid temperatures like these!- Lougaron frowned slightly at the drake as it sized him- and the straps of the saddle- up with a gaze full of what Lougaron could swear was malicious humor, as though the drake were amused by setting his master on edge.

Though nowhere near as intelligent as the drakes Lougaron had befriended, Mahes was definitely not as simple minded as most claimed. Proto-drakes in general were not as simple minded as one would think. It was a cruel and simple mind they possessed, but cruel and simple was the dangerous part. It was the cruel simplicity that made Lougaron regret choosing the proto-drake to fly across Icecrown. Shalozar Basin might have been a better place to break in the wily reptile- at least there was less room for the drake to perform aerial acrobatics to lose his rider.

Rider and mount stared each other down, hovering in the sky with lightning above, Scourge below. A critical moment, suspended in air. Lougaron willed his heart to slow; he knew that the damned drake could hear it. He continued to stare into Mahes' eyes, an alpha staring down another strong male, neither willing to back down.

A bellowing roar sounded in the air above them, and both looked up from their staring match to see a Frost Wyrm Matriarch come tearing from the bellies of the clouds. Her bones creaked and tattered flesh fluttered in her wake, her horrible skeletal maw brimming with the ichor of the Lich King that reanimated her. Eyes made whole in an unholy light gazed their way. She roared again and began steering her horrific corpse towards them.

Rider and drake looked at each other once more, then with a simple nudge, the drake powered his way through the frigid air, his rider laying low to minimize resistance as they flew for their lives. Survival was more important than hierarchy that moment. They would have their pissing match later.

If they lived to see later.


	2. Fear

Fear. It's best described as a vicious worm that eats at the heart, burrows through the gut and eats holes in the viscera. Being brave isn't being fearless. It's conquering that horrible worm eating at your gut before it devours you alive.

Drake and rider were fighting being devoured by their own fear as the monstrous behemoth barreled after them through the bone chilling air, sounding her blood curdling bellow. Mahes was losing his ability to fly rationally, his flight path becoming erratic, the reins slipping from his rider's hands as he bucked and tossed his head in a blind panic. His left wingtip grazed a cliff face and he roared in a terrified frenzy.

Lougaron knew he had to squash the worm- fear- gnawing at his chest and take the reins to save them both. He had to be the brains to save the brawn.

He tightened the straps binding his thighs to his mount's saddle, ignoring the pinch that would mean a slight decrease in blood flow. With the straps more tightly secured, he leaned his weight forward and down to the right, his hand outstretched for the reins. Mahes roared again, temporarily deafening his rider. Lougaron grabbed the top of the drake's bony head and looked him in the eye, despite the fact Mahes was focused on the closest escape route.

"We can do this, Mahes! Stop trying to fight me and trust me, or we're both goners!" Lougaron cried over the howling of the wind and the matriarch's bellows.

He leaned more of his weight forward, and the proto-drake saw what his rider was trying to do. He tucked his head close to his chest, bringing the reins within Lougaron's grasp. Lougaron seized them and pulled them tight to the left.

"Up, Mahes! Up!" he roared, leaning back to emphasize the command.

Relieved to have someone else do the thinking for him so he could give in to his panic, the proto-drake succumbed, and followed Lougaron's lead, abruptly taking off into an upward climb, veering left. The Frostbrood was confused by the abrupt change in direction and halted, hovering, unsure.

"Go, Mahes! Right and up!" Lougaron ordered, pulling the reins, leaning and nudging Mahe's acid green hide.

Grasping Lougaron's intentions, and needing no further encouragement, the proto-drake bolted in the correct direction, flying as fast as he could. The matriarch recovered from her momentary confusion, and with another bone-shaking roar, barreled after her prey. Lougaron didn't dare glance behind them, keeping his eyes focused, narrowed against the wind, scanning for his target. It had to be close!

The frostbrood was getting closer. Pure malicious glee was in her dead eyes...she was parting her jaws....

"There!" he cried, the aircraft coming into view.

Lougaron had never been fond of mechanical creations and contraptions, but the sight of Agmar's Hammer had never been so beautiful to him. Mahes saw the target, and let out a growl of relief, powering his way towards the airship.

The shield mages cried out a warning as they noticed that the approaching drake was bringing an unwanted guest in its wake. Shouts rose from the ship, and shields sprang up around the ship as the exhausted drake came to a landing on deck, nearly collapsing. The matriarch let out a scream in her fury at being denied her prey, letting loose a blast of frozen breath fruitlessly against the shields before flying off, howling her shrieking indignation to the skies.

Lougaron released the straps on his saddle and slid from Mahes' back. He walked in front of the drake on wobbly knees as the exhausted reptile slumped onto his belly, massive wings spread out slightly as he panted. Lougaron approached his drake cautiously and stroked his bony muzzle. Mahes fixed his amber eyes on the hunter, and the two stared at each other for a long silent moment, returning to their earlier pissing match. Lougaron refused to look away....

Mahes finally closed his eyes and his maw gaped in what was unmistakably a knowing, toothy grin. Lougaron's eyes lit up, despite their fatigue, and he moved to sit next to Mahes, leaning against his shoulder. Mahes simply snorted good naturedly and moved a wing to cover his rider, shielding him from the wind. Lougaron smiled and rubbed Mahes' neck. His heart was still pounding and his blood still sang in his veins, but he felt content despite the near brush with death. He'd made a lifelong friend today, one he'd not soon be parted with.

"We did it, Mahes. The both of us."


	3. Noise

Noise.

There was much of it to be heard at the tournament grounds. Valiants cheered, on-lookers roared, hawkers cried out about their wares. The sounds of shields slamming, lances knocking, the tramping of paws hooves and claws- and the occasional mechanical clnk- sounded through the various rings as Champions, Aspirants and Valiants alike jousted, chatted, cheered and socialized.

Mahes snorted at the noise, slightly irritated by the pandemonium of sound. Lougaron smiled and rubbed the proto-drake's neck, earning a resigned grumble as Mahes flew towards the Sunreaver's pavilion.

"You be good while I find out who I should be talking to regarding the tournament, alright? Once I'm done you can go roam around Sholozar until I get back from Silvermoon." Lougaron told Mahes gently, sliding from the saddle, his thoughts moving to pleasant images of his apartment back in Silvermoon with the comfortable bed, roaring fireplace and cabinets stocked with his favorite foods and guilty pleasures.

Mahes eyed a gnome that passed causing him to scurry quickly out of range of the drake's gaping, hungry maw. Lougaron smirked but tried to get the drake's attention. He grabbed Mahes' chin and made him look at him.

"While I have no love for the gnomes, I can assure you from those with experience, gnomes are not very appetizing, or flavorful. Also, Thrall has promised Fordring we'd behave at the tournament. This includes you. You can go hunt down some Cultists and munch on them until I get done here, but behave. No eating Alliance," he said in amusement, his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

Mahes rolled his shoulders, tossing his head slightly in disgruntled acknowledgment, letting out a sulky snort. Lougaron snickered and gave Mahes a pat on the nose, backing up in time to avoid being struck by Mahes' massive wings as he unfurled them, taking off to find a meal. He smiled, and his eyes followed the drake for a bit before heading for the pavilion entrance.

"No, sweetie I have no intention of learning those plans; it gives me an excuse to ogle your arms while you hammer away!" Giggled a voice from Lougaron's left.

Lougaron turned, unsure if the voice he'd heard was male or female, and his eyes fell on a blood elf he could only assume was a paladin from the heavy libram dangling precariously against his narrow hips, leaning against an anvil, grinning rather unabashedly at fellow blood elf whose deathly pale skin was covered in soot and sweat, his shirt unbuttoned and hanging around his waist, and his expression was that of awkward discomfort. Lougaron's gaze fell on his eyes and saw they were the baneful blue of a death knight.

"Look, Vin, I know you swing that way, but how many times do I gotta tell ya? I'm DEAD. Even if I **did** swing that way, I can't even er- you know. Sorry," the death knight said, his voice a harsh cold growl, despite trying to sound apologetic.

The paladin giggled and brushed a lock of sleek black hair from his slender face before leaning on the anvil again, propping his chin up on his gauntlet covered hands. His soft eyes never left the death knight's face as he leaned as far as he could without falling over, purposely sticking his thin rump in the air. Lougaron almost felt bad for the death knight, but was amused at how flamboyant the blood knight was acting. The death knight shook his head, his soot smeared white hair falling over his bare shoulders, and the paladin giggled again.

"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate your physique, 'Kare," he said playfully, moving his eyes exaggeratedly down the path of his chest. "Especially when you're making me armor and weapons, flexing those strong arms."

Despite trying to keep it quiet, a slight bark of a laugh escaped Lougaron's lips. Slightly mortified, he kept walking, trying to play off his laugh as that of a passerby rather than someone who was watching the entire awkward ordeal. The blood knight turned in his direction, and Lougaron pretended he didn't notice how his eyes lit up, focusing his own eyes on the pavilion.

The clank of plate sounded behind him and a plated finger tapped Lougaron's chain mail pauldron. He stopped, wincing slightly as he turned. The paladin was beaming at him, a flush on his high cheekbones. Lougaron couldn't help lift a brow as he noticed he was wearing what looked like the Judgment armor set, but was in shades of violet and silver. The paladin himself was short- five foot four to Lougaron's five foot ten- and slender, wiry almost, but he stood with an authority that made Lougaron think he was either a protection or retribution paladin.

The blood knight continued to smile and put a finger to his generous bottom lip, his gaze appreciative as he started to walk a circle around the hunter.

"Tall, five foot ten, I'd guess. Nice and lean, adorable athletic build. Cocky, slightly arrogant stance, fierce eyes, very intelligent," he said matter-of-factly as he circled him, sizing him up.

Annoyed, Lougaron halfway expected him to open his mouth and check his teeth like a horse breeder. He then noticed with a bit of wry amusement, that the death knight was putting on his shirt and bolting for his nearby mount, taking advantage of the paladin's distraction.

"Gorgeous hair...love the deep red," the paladin continued. "Adorable little soulpatch, the lips are a bit thin, but I am loving the scowl."

Lougaron had indeed scowled as the paladin evaluated him, and he now folded his arms over his chest, eyeing him in turn. He shifted his weight to his right leg and tapped his left foot impatiently.

"Is there a point to your evaluation of me, or are you just always like this?" He asked.

"Oh, what a wonderful voice! Clear, tenor, with a feral masculine edge!" The paladin cried in delight, throwing a hand to his chest, batting his eyes.

Lougaron blinked and started edging away. Something was off in the paladin's head.

"Oh, no, don't leave! I'm sorry, I'm **so** straight forward and extroverted, I forget you tasty masculine types are a bit put off by open flattery," the blood knight said plaintively, moving forward.

Lougaron scowled again and lifted a brow.

"I don't even know you, and you're looking at me like a piece of meat. I really don't appreciate it," he said dismissively, ready to just leave and get done what he had to get done so he could go home to Silvermoon.

The paladin blushed furiously and grinned sheepishly.

"I'm Vin, Vinselar Durmas," He said earnestly, removing a gauntlet and extending the bare hand to shake.

Lougaron eyed the proffered hand, then removed his own glove and shook it warily. He was taken aback at feeling how soft his hand was, yet it was strong, as though the muscles under the well pampered skin were made of tempered titansteel. His surprise must have shown in his eyes, as Vinselar smirked.

"I know, my skin's deliciously soft," he said silkily, winking. "I do what I can to get by. And what's your name, you devilishly handsome brute?"

Lougaron swallowed, thrown off by Vinselar's bawdy and blunt behaviour.

"Lou. Lougaron Dawnwing," he finally grunted.

"Lou. I love it," Vinselar practically purred, his grin so wide it seemed likely to split his face.

"I um...I'm pleased, as it were, to meet you, Vinselar-" Lou began.

"Vin. Please. Call me Vin, hon," Vinselar said.

Lou pulled his hand from Vin's.

"Vin," he said. "I have to talk to Magister Edien Sunhollow in regards to signing up for the tournament. Perhaps I'll see you around sometime."

Vin pouted, and Lou had to wonder how many people gave in to that facial expression on a daily basis; his face was rather endearing when he sulked.

"I know a dismissal when I see one. However," he said, smiling again and lunging forward, slipping his arm through Lou's and pushing close.

Lou tried to suppress the flush that threatened to creep across his cheeks. Despite looking wiry, the paladin's body was solid, and it wasn't just the plate giving him weight; there was some decent musculature to him.

"I know my way around the grounds very well. I can be your tour guide," he said brightly.

Lougaron sighed to himself. Vin had latched himself onto him, and wasn't letting go. He might as well make use of his company, and maybe steer his flirtations elsewhere.

"Alright, lead the way."

Vin shook his head, frowning.

"No way, hon. You're not making a first impression like that; your armor is dirty," he said.

Lou resisted the urge to gnash his teeth at the hold up.

"What's wrong with how I look? You seemed pretty satisfied with how I looked a moment ago," Lou replied, trying to keep the edge from his voice.

Vin gave him a sidelong look.

"Someone's testy...is someone in withdrawal? Do you need a fix?"

Lou stopped short in midreply, and shut his mouth. He was indeed feeling the edges of withdrawal, but not from magical energies of any sort. He'd ran out of blood thistle the previous evening and was craving one- he rolled the herb into cigarettes and smoked them at his leisure. He wasn't about to admit that to this paladin he'd only just met.

Vin yanked Lou by the arm and led him to the stables. His charger waited there, the proud Thalassian steed snorting happily at her master's return. Vin patted the large mare on her neck and began rummaging through the saddle bags on her bag. He turned back to Lou, handing him a small palm sized parcel. Lou opened it to find a row of neatly rolled cigarettes. He looked up at Vin.

"Is this-"

"Blood thistle?" Vinselar replied lightly, examining his own well manicured nails. "Maayyyybeeee."

He looked up, a wicked grin on his face.

"I'm not a goody two shoes, Mr Hunter. And from what I surmise as much from you, you aren't, either."

Lougaron lit a cigarette and took a long drag happily as Vinselar watched smugly.

"We have a lot more in common than you might think, and we have to watch our backs here. Some of the Crusade's Champions like to fight dirty, both on and off the field," Vinselar said, closing his saddle bags after pulling out a Winterbark apple for his charger, who crunched it up daintily, nuzzling her master in appreciation.

He drew closer to Lou, who had closed his eyes, enjoying his cigarette. When he opened them, he saw Vin wasn't but a foot away. Vin smiled.

"I'll watch your back, and you can watch mine. You need friends here."

Before he could react, Vin kissed his cheek. He laughed and winked as Lou nearly dropped his blood thistle.

"Maybe we could get to know each other better as I show you around?" he said coyly, slipping out of the stables.

Lougaron stared at the smoldering cigarette in his hand. He took one final drag before putting it out and putting the remainder in his pocket and striding out to join Vinselar. His craving sated, he allowed himself to enjoy watching the the leisure stride of the blood knight. 

_Looks like it's going to be a while before I get back to Silvermoon. Might as well make it worth my while._


End file.
